London Loves
by Paddington Bear's Friend
Summary: Follow the lives and loves of our favourite famous, beautiful adolescents, living in London and taking the world. AU. Rating may change. Read & Review! DM / HG BZ / GW LL / OC PP / OW
1. The Girls

19 year old Hermione Granger irritably flicked a strand of flyaway hair from her face. The air in Hair 101 was too high, the music too loud and she was beginning to get antsy. Sven's technique of dying her hair was indisputably perfect, but insisting on coloring one fine hair at a time could take all day. Literally. She reached out a slim arm to grab her iPhone, with every intention of wading through the mess that was her inbox. However as she picked up the glittery gadget, she stopped and her heart dropped into the depths of her toned stomach. The multiple plasma TVs, primarily placed for every aimless woman in the salon to patiently watch, were blaring the last thing she wanted to hear today.

His Band. His song. And his undeniable, complete perfection.

_"__Ooh he's rather gorgeous"_

_"__The things I would do to him!"_

_"__Have you seen him in those pictures on the beach?! Wait I'll get them up"_

Cue the giggling, shuffling around in Fendi purses and endless scrolling to find the topless picture of the It boy of the moment.

Draco Malfoy.

Hermione blushed a light pink and busied herself in the salon chair, bowing her head and waiting for the 4-minute song to end so her heartbeat could return to normal. His effect on her state was a usual occurrence but she remained resolute that she would give these women nothing to talk about. Their 'relationship', if you could even call it that now, was conducted in almost complete secrecy due to the paparazzi mobbing them when in public together. The fact his music was playing simply reminded her that they hadn't spoken for 4 days since their last argument, neither wanting to cave first. A sudden jolt and she was lifted out of her reverie to hear Sven berating a young salon girl for being _so_ clumsy with her cleaning to disturb _"The Hermione Granger herself."_ The embarrassed girl stuttered an almost incoherent apology, and slowly backed away clearly completely mortified. Hermione caught her eye in the mirror and winked to show her that no damage was done and the stricken looking teenager managed a weak smile as she all but ran away.

"Sven you absolute monster! She didn't mean any harm!" Hermione swiveled in her chair to mischievously chastise her long time friend and trusted hair stylist.

_"__Oh darhling, these young ones have to be trained hard. I was and look how perfectly I turned out; a little fear never hurt anyone. Now sit still and I'll finish up so you won't be late for the Malkin shoot. I'm not having your bloody assistant call me one more time about how meticulously timed you schedule is!"_

Hermione's toffee colored eyes crinkled as she laughed at his normal dramatics and obediently turned whilst her waist length hair fanned around her face to complete his masterpiece. She had met Sven three years ago, when he, just like her, was starting out in the cruel, cut throat world of fashion. Simply a hairdresser's assistant then, he had taken Hermione under his wing and provided many a shoulder to cry on as her young confidence was knocked by designer after designer.

_"__You need to lose 5 pounds by Wednesday"_

_"__For gods sake, stand up straight! Shoulders back, stomach IN! You're not in school anymore love"_

_"__Is it puppy fat... Or?"_

Sixteen years old, 5'10 and weighing no more than 105 pounds at all times, her thin skin toughened quickly. As Sven transformed her with beautiful creation after beautiful creation, both their stars rose quickly, Hermione acting as a walking advertisement for his unquestionable talent. Now, as she sat in his chic salon in Wizarding West London, surrounded by women paying thousands for his work, she couldn't help but feel incredibly proud of all they had accomplished. Three years ago she would have never dreamed of walking in both the Paris and London fashion weeks, let alone gracing the cover of '_WitchVogue_' not once but twice. As her look matured she progressed from a skinny young duckling to the willowy swan she was now. Her long legs, lean, curvaceous body and inert grace meant that photographers and designers everywhere were clamoring to work with her. Hermione had undoubtedly transformed from a girl on the cusp, into a phenomenal beauty. Her heart shaped face, almond eyes, lush pouted rose lips, slim nose and olive skin tone translated both into girl next door **_and_**high fashion: a feat not easily achieved.

She wiggled her long, leather covered legs and received a sharp tap on the head as a reminder to stay still. Playing with the fringe of her distressed white t-shirt, her mind wandered onto the issue of Draco.

_And his stubbornness._

_And his ability to frustrate her to all hell._

_And the way he held her._

Hermione quickly stopped her fidgeting and her flawless face grew annoyed under the coif of highlighted, lowlighted, tousled, teased blonde blowout Sven was perfecting.

"O-o-ookay! You are ready to go my lover."

Two final brushes and Sven stepped back to admire his work under the 'oh-so-now' diamond spotlights trained on Hermione's head.

The newly beautified Hermione sat up, her tri-toned golden hair framing her face perfectly restored with the healthy swing she loved, something always missing when a visit to Sven was overdue. She smiled and her previously downcast face lit up as she rose to hug the wonderful stylist.

"Yes, yes okay my duckling, now hurry.. hurry! And remember stand up STRAIGHT!"

"You are just the best, Thank you! Wire Jenna the bill and she'll settle up, I'm so late!"

Hermione blew kisses to the other stylists in the salon as she hurried across the marble floor, her trademark skyscraper Louboutin black boots clicking loudly, She paused briefly at the frosted glass door, donned a large tan colored Givenchy handbag and oversized winged tortoise shell Prada sunglasses, draping a black leather jacket over her thin shoulders. The young girl, so embarrassed earlier, quickly appeared and stood by the door waiting for Hermione's go ahead. Throwing one last kiss over her shoulder to Sven, and a fleeting reassuring squeeze on the salon help's arm, the blonde beauty moved towards the door and emerged into the street where photographers immediately swarmed her.

_*FLASH*_

_*SNAP*_

_*CLICK*_

"Hermione, where's Draco?"

"Are you still together?"

"Over here gorgeous!"

_*FLASH*_

_*SNAP*_

_*CLICK*_

She kept her head bowed and moved with purpose towards the matte black Mercedes G-Wagon, a gift to herself after a year of rigorous, well paid work. Finding her keys she slipped into the vehicle, grateful to be hidden behind the tinted windows. Throwing her bag into the white leather passenger seat she fished out her phone and checked the home screen.

Still no text.

Still no call.

Frustrated she plugged in her silver IPod and selected the latest song Ginny had insisted she download. As the infectious synths kicked in, her mood began to improve. Turning the key and glancing swiftly to the right, Hermione pulled into the busy midday traffic of central London.

* * *

Across the city, 18-year-old Ginny Weasley fell out of a difficult spin, falling gracelessly onto the wooden floor. A dancer from a young age she had been pushing her body into more and more complex moves, growing frustrated when not immediately mastering them. Her black spandex leotard stretched tightly over her lithe body as the tiny elasticated shorts were trained into higher kicks and longer twists.

She stomped over to the speakers, restarted the music and returned to the middle of the studio, determined to perform the routine once without mistake. Her slim legs straightened as she waited for the first beat. Moving effortlessly with the music, her toned body became so fluid it was hard to believe she was a mere mortal. Twisting, turning and vaulting into a series of moves, it was clear to see why she was hailed as one of the best. Her perfectly proportioned features remained smooth and unyielding to the intensity of her physical exertion. Ginny's pale pouted lips, large doe like brown eyes and smattering of freckles caused many a man to be in awe of her complete beauty. Breathing heavily she spun out of a high vault and landed lightly, her face breaking into a huge smile upon finally completing the routine. A vibrating buzzing sound alerted her to her wand, placed haphazardly amongst her discarded sweats on the floor. This interruption meant that not only was she incredibly late, but that she needed to get across muggle London is less than 20 minutes.

_Shit._

Frantically grabbing her wand and haphazardly waving it around the spacious studio it was transformed into a makeshift dressing room. Wiggling out of her dance attire she donned a deep red silk dressing gown, tying the large sash tightly around her waist. Looking in the mirror at her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, the youngest Weasley was impressed with how she had changed over the past year, blossoming from a gangly youth into an undeniably stunning young woman. Shaking her head of the self-indulgent thoughts she roughly pulled the scrunchie from her high bun and let her silky chocolate brown hair cascade over her shoulders and back. One simple swish and the kinky mess was a shimmering straight curtain, parted neatly in the middle to display her slim oval face. Applying just two coats of Chanel mascara, smudged lightly with glittering metallic black eye shadow her brown eyes popped. A light application of both Dior Skin Forever foundation and 'Gold Sands' bronzer, her transformation was complete. Swiping a pale pink lipstick across her luscious lips the young beauty pouted, surveying her face from every angle possible to be caught on camera.

_No tide lines._

_No glaring eyeliner mishaps._

_It would do._

Bending over her small Celine bag, she summoned a mid length black dress out of its depths. The tight scuba material would require multiple shimmies and wiggles but once the final strap was in place it hugged her flawless body. Simple and elegant, Ginny's best features were highlighted. Ample breasts with a small waist, which flared at her hips before tapering into long, slim legs, she was the epitome of every male's wet dream. The halter neck grazed her collarbones, displaying her thin arms and dainty wrists, almost weighed down under the gold Rolex her on-again off-again boyfriend had presented to her after another of their infamous blowouts. Waving her wand once more to tidy the now unrecognisable dance space, her discarded clothes leapt off the floor and into her handbag, accommodating everything with a clever storage charm. She slipped her pedicured feet into a pair of pointed black six-inch suede heels and sashayed confidently over to the door. A final pose in the mirror and a swift tug to reveal a tantalising amount of cleavage, she turned, flicked her hair and turned out the lights emerging onto the bustling streets a vision amidst a rather dreary day.

Striding quickly out to the curb she extended her svelte arm and craned her neck trying desperately to catch the welcome sight of a vacant black cab. However, a brief tap on her shoulder and she spun quickly, tightening the grip on her bag, nervously looking for the offender. A smartly dressed man greeted her with his unfailing impeccable courteousness.

"Miss Weasley, Master Blaise had a premonition you might be a little... er… behind schedule, should we say. He has insisted you take his town car in order to make it to the venue in time."

Blaise Zabini's personal driver, Lionel Haffenforth, stood before Ginny, hands clasped behind his back, preparing for the onslaught of usual wrath at his masters display of wealth. Whilst Blaise was famed worldwide for his progressive rap collaborations and albums, his girlfriend Ginny preferred to try remain inconspicuous wherever possible. She had even successfully evaded the trained bodyguard he had assigned to her. A large black SUV, tinted windows and personal license plate (BZ1) the vehicle was immediately recognisable. This thankfully, was not her usual mode of transport, preferring the eternally too hot, crowded London tube system. However, today she could not argue.

"Thank you Lionel, I think for sanity's sake it would be wise to accept the offer. But make sure Blaise knew I put up at least a semblance of a fight."

Winking at her old friend, she climbed into the automobile; doing her best to avoid the stares of those she had previously shared the pavement with. Crossing her shapely legs, the brunette beauty sat back and relaxed in the plush seats, preparing her tired brain for what was to come.

* * *

Pansy tapped her heel impatiently on the pavement, caring not for scuffing the Manolo Blahnik shoes. She would just buy a new pair. What she cared about now was the lunch date her boyfriend had all but stood her up for. Feeling her infamous temper rising she breathed deeply, trying to remember the technique Luna had made her practice on their last visit.

In for 5seconds.

Out for 5 seconds.

In for 5 seconds.

_"Where the fuck was he!" _

God she missed that girl. 2 more weeks until the ethereal goddess would finally be done with Yuri's promotional tour and the foursome of girlfriends could be back together again. She sighed loudly and looked around the all but empty parking lot waiting for the bloody boy. 60 seconds ticked by and she gave up, entering the restaurant, dressed impeccably in a blue mini sun dress, her dark hair simply falling down her back in a wave of deep chocolate. She greeted his parents warmly, embracing each, both commenting how well she looked. As they sat down there was a burst of commotion at the door, and whispering as 'The Oliver Wood', famed keeper for the London Lions entered the intimate Spanish restaurant. Cameras flashed as his presence was known but he only had eyes for the half Brazilian, half English beauty that was Pansy. Grazing her cheek softly, Oliver whispered Scottish apologies in her ear, sending butterflies racing around her body. He was slightly flushed from racing to appease his stunning girlfriend and the effect was one Pansy welcomed. After a firm handshake from his father and copious heartfelt hugs from his doting mum, the foursome were finally seated at their albeit now slightly later lunch. Once the drinks order had been taken, Pansy launched into a deep conversation with Patrick and Jane about their new house, wanting to hear every minute detail. This transpired into both women going into raptures; keen to share the joy with whom Oliver's mother hoped would be their future daughter in law.

Watching the two most important women in his life conferring, his mind wandered back to the first day he had met Pansy. Gringotts had laid of a charity Quidditch match to race awareness for Healers Without Borders, a non for profit that send aid workers to areas where magic had left a less than rosy glow. The match had been heavily attended, including a who's who of the magical celebrity world. Each team had performed a novelty fly by where they displayed trick after trick, flying higher, faster and more recklessly than ever before to amuse the crowd. Oliver had shot by the VIP stand once, clocking the stunning model laughing hysterically with the girls, her head thrown back, her face a picture of happiness. Flying by again for another look at the beauty, he had slowed down, pulling up in front of her, calling out over the cheer of the crowd.

"You, lassie. If I win, you have to be my prize, Aye?"

Pansy had smirked at the outrageous ego of the handsome golden boy, hovering in front of her. She had flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and stared back at Oliver, the words rolling off of her Spanish tongue.

"I'm nobody's prize, Captain. But seeing as it's for charity, you have a deal."

Oliver had grinned and taken off flying around the pitch once more, spurred on by the testosterone coursing through his muscular body. Naturally his team had won and Oliver had held up his promise and taken Pansy out to Chez Margot, a night neither would forget. Probably due to the fact they left dinner after the appetizer to ravish each other at his flat, unable to hold in their desire over another petty two courses. Two years later and she had remained his goddess, sustaining him both emotionally and physically. His family had fallen in love with her no-nonsense, practical outlook on life, bored of the flighty fancies he had paraded in front of them before. She fit him like a glove and he loved her so much, he was sure his tough Scottish heart would break.

He Snapped back to consciousness as talk turned to when the two lovebirds would be married and start making mixed race, Quidditch-god babies for them to dote over and spoil. Exiting the restaurant an hour later the cameras still flashed as power couple Oliver and Pansy made a rather conspicuous exit, Oliver slapping her ass as she walked out of the door.

_"Come on lass, I need to get you home. I have to make up for my timekeeping skills." _

Pansy's squeal was heard throughout the street as Oliver lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his perfectly muscular torso.

* * *

Rising from the lotus position, Luna Lovegood inhaled deeply, the clear Californian air revitalising her senses. The breeze whipped her tousled hair, the ends flicking her tanned cheeks. The natural surroundings of infinite sea and impossibly blue skies, had recharged her batteries and cleared her abstract mind.

She was ready to return to London with the crazy life she had left behind when following Yuri on his tour.

"_The struggles of being __**the **__girlfriend_," she thought wryly.

Throwing her arms to the air she spun, the white sundress catching the wind, a vision to all who beheld her. She skipped into their beach house, calling throughout the rooms for her love to come and whisk them back to their real lives with their old friends and new dramas.


	2. The Boys

Step to the left. Step to the right. Twist. Turn.

Was it a jump next?

_Fuck. This. _

The incessantly annoying voice of their choreographer rang out over the stadium. Amplified 300 fold by the wand he held aloft to his throat, the whiny, nasal sound was ear splitting. Looking to his left, Draco Malfoy took in the strained, tired faces of his band mates: none of them dancers by nature. This last leg of their world tour was quickly becoming a nightmare.

100 shows.

100 venues.

Complete chaos.

The Heartbreaker's front man swept his platinum blonde hair away from his face, tousling it into his trademark mess. Effortlessly handsome and roguishly reckless, Draco had been the clear choice for the music moguls, a meal ticket for many with dollar signs in their eyes. Piercing silver eyes and a svelte body honed with dedicated hours in the gym, Draco's brand had swept the world, young and old alike fawning over him.

Although right now he felt like death incarnate.

Blaise would have to die.

* * *

**_24 hours ago_**

The young Malfoy heir had been safely aboard the tour bus, expressly forbidden by their manager to seek out any trouble during the short stop in California.

_**23 hours ago**_

Blaise had arrived. And with his signature way, had convinced not only Draco and his band mates, but the bus driver to head to Hollywood.

_**22 hours ago**_

Draco remembered being mobbed entering the club, the sight of Blaise and the Heartbreakers too much to handle for many an inebriated girl.

* * *

Swishing long red hair away from her face, the barmaid struggled to hear above the din in ViperLounge. Men ogling her body and women laughing over just **how** funny it was to fall off their stools was growing boring on a routine Saturday night. Pouring her thousandth tequila shot, Marie spied a commotion on the dance floor.

Finally. Excitement.

The club's security was swarming, men built like houses shouting into earpieces. Straining, she caught a glance of movement towards her bar, a group of partygoers more raucous than the rest. Writing it off as a collection of overexcited, 'just legal' celebrators, she returned to her stock take, unimpressed.

However, the noise was now audible over the DJ, a sign of trouble to come. Emerging from the throng were two men, Marie straightening as it became clear whom her next customers were. In his black Jordan's, dark ripped skinny jeans and oversized black and white basketball jersey, Blaise was undeniably gorgeous. To his left was a boy she saw daily, splashed over walls, TV's and magazines. Dressed similarly to his friend, Draco had put on an oversized black sweatshirt, the words _'Commes Des Fuck Down'_ clearly visible on the front. A blur of movement and Blaise's tanned arm was resting on the bar, his multiple tattoos shining under the club lights. Laughing at his friend, he was feeling immortal, an untouchable aura surrounding him. Marie reacting quickly to the high profile guests slunk over to them, moving her hips in a way to keep every eye trained on her.

"What can I get for you boys?" Her southern accent dripping sex, she held onto the last syllable, drawing attention to her pouted rosebud mouth.

Blaise took her in with an appreciative glance, finally resting on her face, a small smile playing on his lips. Drunk on life at 21, Blaise was richer than the gods, a product of his insanely successful rap career. A rare mix of Jamaican and Dutch, he had inherited smooth tanned skin, chiseled cheekbones and clear green eyes. Easily bedding more women than humanely necessary, when his star had begun to shine. Then, Ginny, his fire starter, had come along. A goddess amongst mortals, he had been instantly infatuated. However as any addict will tell you, old habits die-hard and the mischievous look in this barmaid's eyes was enticing to him, still riding too high after his latest album release. Fixing her with a playful look he motioned for her to come closer, speaking clearly and authoritatively into her waiting ear.

"Well, sweetheart what's on offer?"

Draco shaking his head looked away, not caring for Blaise's blatant toying with this girl, finding her thirst pathetic. Looking up he noticed their group of fans parting allowing a sandy coloured head to make their way through. Instantly recognizing the newcomer as Yuri Ivanoff, Draco smiled widely, hugely gratified at the sight of another one of his boys. Reaching them, Yuri threw his arm around Draco's neck and turned, shouting to the crowd,

"Shots, anyone?"

A huge cheer went up and the chant of 'Shots! Shots! Shots!' rang out over the dance floor. Standing at 6"2 Yuri was instantly identifiable, fresh off his most recent movie tour and global heartthrob. Typically found with a surfboard or practicing Yoga with Luna, the blue eyed, All American boy was at the top of his game. Dressed simply in washed out blue jeans and a ragged white t-shirt, his tanned skin was glowing, the happiness at seeing Draco and Blaise apparent. His inconspicuous entrance had many of the women in hysterics, some physically throwing themselves at the barrier of bodyguards, rebounding with a dull thud each time. Yuri turned and embraced Draco, both boys grinning widely with euphoria at being back together.

"Dude, how come you're here!"

"Luna headed back early for a pre-reunion with the girls, fuck knows what that is, and I knew you boys were here for the show at the WizStadium so I figured Blaise would drag you out!"

Yuri's deep voice was picking up, the alcohol and excitement clearly evident. Blaise, finally breaking from his cocoon of sexual innuendos and inappropriate flirting with the bartender, turned and saw Yuri.

"YURI!"

Blaise bounded over to them, all thoughts of the woman behind him dissipated. Throwing an arm around both his boys' necks, the he dragged them over to the bar.

"You", he motioned at the barmaid clearly having forgotten her name, "How would you like to make a thousand bucks tonight?"

Ten minutes later, Marie was lying on the bar topless, 10 shots of tequila in a straight line from her breasts to just above her waistband. Surrounded by eager fans chanting their approval, the three boys fed off the energy, behaving with reckless abandon as only adolescents can.

"I need to get a picture of this for Ol." Yuri pulled out his phone and positioned himself with the best shot of the boys and Marie, to send to their missing fourth member, Oliver Wood.

Blaise and Draco started from opposite ends, neither seeing the photographer placed surreptitiously behind the DJ booth. This shot of Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, topless Marie and Yuri Ivanoff, would make front pages worldwide. Taking their first shot the two boys winced, whilst Yuri hollered loudly.

Three shots later and Draco's memory went black.

* * *

Today, the Heartbreakers front man was ready to rip out his silver hair. Their tour manager had lost his shit, the choreographer couldn't understand how fragile each member of the band was, and Hermione was giving him the silent treatment ever since the infamous photo had been plastered globally.

The Heartbreaker's drummer, Kyle, bent over and vomited on stage.

It was obvious.

Blaise would have to die.


	3. Before The Storm

Hermione squealed as the doorbell rang clearly throughout their loft apartment.

"Pans, Gin! She's HOME!"

Pulling the heavy oak door open, the young blonde screamed with delight as she flung herself at the fairy on their doorstep. Dressed in pastel pink cotton harem pants, a black, shimmering belly dancing top and wavy hair loose to the wind, Luna looked incredible. Feeling the weight of two more people, Hermione knew Ginny and Pansy had descended on their hug and could feel Luna straining under the weight of three extremely excitable girls. Pulling her arms slowly from around Luna's neck, Hermione welled up at the sight of her closest friends back together under one roof.

"Ladies, LADIES!"

Luna half shouted above the happy giggling and screaming coming from Pansy and Ginny.

"I've been here 5 minutes and there is still no Champagne glass in my hand... What has become of you all since I've been away?!"

Laughing and wiping away tears Hermione waved her wand to levitate the numerous suitcases into the loft.

"Oh god, how I've missed this place."

Luna wandered around the spacious loft, glowing with bright sunshine. Murmuring quietly she brushed her fingertips over the photos on their mantelpiece. Each told a different story of the foursome's friendship, however centre stage stood their most treasured one. One year ago, Ginny had been signed to arguably the most prestigious dance company in the world, Roma Art Studios. However, the entry process was grueling to say the least. She had been long gone before the sun had risen and returned home as it was just rising again. Dancing became her nourishment and every new routine sustained her for another month of mayhem. After watching Ginny spiral into a pit of dance despair, the girls decided enough was enough. Surprising her at the practice studio Pansy, Hermione and Luna coerced a less than willing; leotard clad Ginny into a pair of joggers and pulled her into the nearest bar. An hour later she had received the call. Pansy drummed her perfectly manicured fingernails on the bar. Hermione bit her nails convulsively and Luna smiled serenely at the terrified young performer. Looking up slowly through her long curtain of dark hair, Ginny had broken into a smile that seemed to stretch beyond her small face.

"…I got it"

"OH MY GOD! OH MY GODDDD!"

Screaming so loudly to be heard over the music, Pansy threw one arm around Ginny's shaking shoulders and punched the air with the other, chanting,

"SHE GOT IT! SHE GOT IT! SHE GOT IT!"

Unbeknownst to the celebrating foursome, a keen paparazzo had spied the group as they had surreptitiously entered the bar. Clicking away, he had managed to capture the pure happiness of the moment in one photograph. One that had been included in most gossip rags the following day.

Framed on the girls' shared mantelpiece was this very photo in question. Pansy was caught mid jump, an arm around Ginny's neck, her poker straight hair flying everywhere. Hermione held onto Ginny's free hand, pulling it into the air in a celebratory stance whilst Luna reached out and held the dancer's shoulder, gazing at her friend with fierce, glowing pride. In the middle was Ginny, the happiness surrounding her tangible.

Turning away from the fireplace, Luna wiped her cheeks, the photo evoking such love in her young heart. Pansy was summoning champagne from the kitchen whilst patting the place next to her on the plush beige sofa for Luna to come cuddle with her. Hermione carefully poured out the bubbly into glasses on their square glass coffee table, Luna collapsed onto the sofa, thoroughly exhausted from international travel.

Pansy rested her head on Luna's, squeezing her tightly to compensate for the seemingly endless months they had spent apart. Handing out the champagne, Hermione joined Ginny on their large circular armchair, crossing her long legs under her.

"Lu I am so happy you're home! To us!"

Hermione raised the crystal glass and smiled widely, her heart swelling at the blessings surrounding her.

* * *

Two hours later and the girls were still gathered in their lavish living room, high on the champagne and the feeling of being reunited.

"So his mother then asks, 'Ohhh Ginevra, when shall you two be married, I want so for Blaise to have children whilst he's young!' And I couldn't help myself-"

Ginny broke off giggling, before continuing –

"I couldn't help myself, I told her 'When your son stops drinking alcohol from prostitutes breasts."

Cackling loudly Pansy almost fell off the sofa, taking Luna with her, ensuing a fresh round of laughter. Wildly dramatic, Ginny had recounted the story of her latest encounter with Blaise's parents, which had occurred only a day after the, now infamous, 'photo' had surfaced. Waving her arms, Ginny had recalled how Blaise's father had choked on his whisky whilst Blaise had turned as white as a sheet. Sitting back into their seat, the brunette chuckled at her audacity, her naturally rosy cheeks flushed from the amusement of it all.

"Actually, Mione, have you heard from Draco?"

Luna hiccupped slightly as she turned to the model, the remnants of ceaseless giggling still in her system. Shaking her blonde hair out of her face, Hermione's face crumpled slightly as she admitted that she hadn't heard from Draco since 'that night.'

"Bastard."

Pansy had a tendency not to mince her words and in this instance the girls couldn't agree more.

"To be honest with you Mi, I only think Blaise faced me because he was more scared of what his mother would do to him if she had to endure 3 hours of just me. Even with him there it wasn't great. I think I said, maybe 4 words to him in that entire time. They do feel bad though, he sent Lionel to pick me up rather than one of his other minions."

Ginny tried to bolster her friend, clearly upset at the lack of contact from her on-again off-again boyfriend.

"Personally I think it's selfish. Draco and Blaise both know that when they pull these 'stunts', which is fast becoming more often than not ladies, the repercussions are felt by everyone involved. How many magazines have painted you as the 'helpless damsel, torn apart' by the 'playboys' latest antics? They need to grow up it's pathetic.

Pansy spat her words out angrily, her temper flaring and Spanish accent more pronounced. Grey eyes flashing she sat back into the sofa,, swallowing the last of her champagne, upset at the boy's insensitivity.

"Well, I did have an idea."

Hermione smiled, a welcome change from her previously downcast face.

"Now that Luna's home, it would be wrong not to have a homecoming and it would be doubly wrong if we didn't invite simply everyone we know."

Grinning mischievously her tanned face lit up,

"I think it's time for another of our 'parties."


	4. Model Behaviour

**PREVIOUSLY ON LONDON LOVES **

_"__Now that Luna's home, it would be wrong not to have a homecoming and it would be doubly wrong if we didn't invite simply everyone we know."_

_Grinning mischievously Hermione's tanned face lit up,_

_"__I think it's time for another of our 'parties."_

* * *

"YES!"

Ginny eagerly sprung up from her position on the circular chair, narrowly missing the champagne glasses.

"Oh my god do you remember the last one? It was Lu's goodbye party! I walked in on Chase and Madison shagging on the roof!"

Luna and Pansy dissolved into hysterics as Ginny squirmed at her most uncomfortable memory. Wriggling in her seat, she turned to Hermione,

"Okay, obviously it has to be this weekend before Quidditch season ramps up again, and half the boys disappear-"

"Definitely Saturday! Hermione and I have the Sleekeazy's shoot on Friday," Pansy cut in, consulting her IPhone's calendar.

"Yes Saturday is perfect for me," Luna's dreamy voice floated above the tipsy tones, "the usuals?"

"Yes usual crowd, no tagalongs desperate to catch a glimpse of their favorite pop star passed out in a hedge", Pansy added disdainfully.

"Okay Saturday's the date. I'll sort the alcohol, Pans you make sure of the food, Lu can do invites and Gin-" Hermione paused for a second, trying to think of anything else that might be necessary, "OOH you do the music!"

The girls laughed as Hermione's OCD personality took natural control of the situation at hand. The young model stood up, stretching her sun kissed limbs, smiling at the idea of a plan coming together. Padding across to their large white kitchen she swung open the fridge, grabbing two bottles of champagne and a box of strawberries, forgetting briefly her 6 am call time the next morning.

* * *

Saturday dawned bright and clear, a perfect London summer's day. Pansy awoke to the sound of their Big Ben novelty doorbell echoing throughout the house. Groaning she pulled herself out of the warm cocoon of her cream canopy bed, slipping her feet into the fluffy pink slipper by the door.

"Who the bloody hell would ring the doorbell on a Saturday morning, fucking annoyi-"

Pansy's grumbling stopped as she pulled the door open to reveal a team of approximately fifteen men, dressed identically in boiler suits, staring at her with both shock and lust. The oldest of the group stepped forward, hovering his clipboard in front of his face.

"Miss Parkinson?"

His gruff voice was low and authoritative, obviously not fazed in the slightest at one of the most prolific models in the world wearing a black negligee, short enough to leave very little to the imagination. However this fact had not passed the other men by, blatantly undressing the beautiful woman in front of them.

"We have been sent by 'Sugar and Spice', who I believe you chose to cater your event tonight?"

Recognition dawned on her flawless face, the sleepiness in her eyes disappearing as she realized what was going on.

"Yes!"

Perking up she swished her curtain of dark hair away from her face, now looking with interest at the boxes in front of the love struck men.

"Yes Madam. We have: 2 chocolate fountains, 3 champagne fountains, 600 champagne flutes, 900 shot glasses, 325 bottles of champagne, 200 bottles of mixed spirits, 500 cans of mixers, coca cola, lemonade etc-"

He paused briefly to take breath from the extensive list;

"500 vodka jello shots, 2 fire whiskey kegs and 4 bottomless wine faucets to install."

Breathing deeply he handed the document over to Pansy who skim read it before jumping to action, motioning the men to start bringing the supplies inside.

"Ladies, rise and shine! We have work to do!"

Pansy sing -songed into the intercom system, fully aware each girl would rise with a death wish for her after the announcement echoed loudly throughout the entire loft.

Five minutes later and 3 sleepy girls emerged into the chaos that had overtaken their living room. Boxes, bubble wrap and too many champagne bottles to count littered the floor. Pansy, however, was in her element. Directing the mayhem she stood on the coffee table, shouting instructions, lending her typical blunt approach to the task at hand. Seeing her flat mates try to make sense of the chaos, she hopped down from her make shift podium and directed them to the tasks she had set aside for them.

"Right, lovely Hermione you are on fondue duty, I need you to head to the Honeydukes on Regent Street and buy everything and anything inebriated adolescents could dunk in chocolate."

Hermione nodded, well versed in Captain Pansy's tendency to go slightly overboard with her natural leadership techniques. Shuffling back to her bedroom, she heard the last orders being given out before slipping off her robe and darting under the warm jets of her power shower, already excited for that nights debauchery to commence.

* * *

Nine o'clock quickly came around and the girls sat surrounding their large marble kitchen island, surveying the fruits of their labour. Luna lazily flicked her wand and the last of the boxes disappeared, whilst the lights slightly dimmed. The space glowed, fairy lights hung on the tall white walls giving the effect of fireflies. The champagne fountain replacing their coffee table was bubbling happily, the glasses surrounding it twinkly in the glow of the golden lights. Mountains of every flavor fudge; colour-changing marshmallows, dissected strawberries and iced pineapple towered around the gushing fountain of liquid Honeydukes finest Belgian chocolate.

"Today has been long to say the absolute least" Ginny moaned as she rested her weary head on the table, Luna stroking her hair to relax her.

"It has, it has" Pansy agreed, "Which is why I vote we all have a celebratory shot of fire whisky now before getting ready!"

"Last time we drank before getting ready I ended up with lipstick surrounding my entire mouth, not one of you bitches telling me I'd decorated my skin!"

Hermione blushed at the memory whilst Luna and Pansy giggled, Ginny snorting from her face down position on the island top.

"Well this will hopefully erase that memory and help to erase any similar memories we make tonight."

Pansy winked, handing out extremely generous shots of fire whisky to her four best friends, swallowing hers in one swift gulp, grey eyes flashing in the twinkling lights.

* * *

Antonio Carez shuffled trying to break some of the humidity in the close summer's evening. Surrounded by 10 other men with the same mission as his the air was stifling on the street corner, basically nose to nose with each others cameras. The paparazzi were stationed nearest to the sanctioned apparition location to the loft, a Ministry implementation in muggle London. Hearing a sharp crack they glimpsed the first of the revelers, making the short walk from the Bake Street apparition point, tottering wildly on six inch heels and copious amounts of fire whisky. The first group of was as star studded as was to be expected. Chase Morgan, Felicity Winter, Robbie Versini, Lily Knightsbridge and Ed Barron were laughing loudly stumbling down the cobbled street, key players in young Hollywood. Felicity and Lily were friends of Pansy and Hermione's from the modeling agency, whilst Ed modeled for the New York agency, spending equal time between London and the Big Apple. Robbie and Chase had been born into privilege, the children of stupendously rich art collectors and former supermodels, rubbing noses with royalty and future leaders alike. Quickly following them was many of the usual crowd, Luc and Giorgio Scarlotto, twin model sons of famed Italian designer Roberto Scarlotto. Cara Waters, Indigo Quentin, Karlie and Krista Lakshmi followed them, linking arms and swaying wildly on a diet of vintage champagne and extreme fortune. The evening light was waning quickly now, darkness falling like a blanket of security around the young celebrities, illuminated only by the flash of the cameras and the flickering city lights.

* * *

Pansy stumbled out onto the rooftop; her long legs completely stable on the six-inch platform wedges, despite the amount of champagne coursing around her system. Strutting confidently through the mass of people dancing more than suggestively around the large pool, Pansy found who she was looking for. Holding court in the pool Ollie was messing around with his Quidditch boys, each more reckless than the last. Pulling the tiny black lace slip passing as a dress over her head, she displayed her model credentials, her body the work of the gods. Wearing a black bikini that left little to the imagination she slipped her heels off, grateful for the stability of bare feet. Shouting out to Oliver, she cannonballed into the water, narrowly missing her handsome boyfriend who laughed as she rose for air, long black hair streaming behind her.

* * *

Ginny and Luna were outrageously happy, dancing wildly with Karlie and Olivia, each move more enthusiastic than the last. Turning wildly Luna lost her balance falling gracelessly onto the sofa, causing all surrounding them to break down in hysterics with the drunken funniness of the situation. Heels had been abandoned for the young beauties who were enjoying the sensation of pure happiness surrounded by so many of their friends and mutual acquaintances. A pair of strong, tanned arms lifted the blonde elf from her starfish position, who screamed loudly, realizing they belonged to Yuri, her drunken knight in shining armour.

"YUUUUURRI, YOU'RE HOME. I MISHED YOU!"

Slurring her words, Luna wrapped her slim arms around her boyfriend's neck, kissing every inch of his face in the process. Gently placing her down, Yuri kissed her forehead, before hugging and kissing each girl on the cheek, so happy to finally be home with his friends.

"Right you beautiful babes, we need shots. Make sure Lu doesn't fall over again 'til I get back!"

Devastatingly handsome, Yuri winked at his friends before attempting to move though the 400 strong throng all moving in time with the heavy bass pumping through the loft.

* * *

Throwing back her head, Hermione's blonde locks tumbled down her exposed back, the black backless mini dress, enticing many male admirers. Slamming the shot glass down onto the kitchen island, her female teammates cheered, twinkly laughter echoing around the room. The impromptu drinking game had begun after Hermione's ex Ed Barron had deemed her "unable to drink more than a glass of wine before retiring." Recognizing the teasing challenge, the young model had accepted, always-pliable when gorgeous Ed was around. His wavy dark hair and warm chocolate eyes took her in time after time, all thoughts of Draco banished from her less than sober mind.

"Hermione WINS!" Ed's deep voice roared around the kitchen, each cheering and laughing in equal measure. Lifting the happy winner up by her long legs, he gripped tightly under her bum, enjoying the feeling of her supple thighs against him.

"I AM THE CHAMPION MY FRIENDSSSS"

Singly wildly Hermione and Ed paraded around their friends, drunk on the night and plentiful supplies of contraband wizard vodka. Slowing down their triumphant march, Hermione slid down Ed's front, not removing her arms from around his neck. His dark eyes bore into hers, the familiarity of their situation comforting. Sliding one hand down to rest on her ass, Ed pulled her tightly against him, before lowering his head and growling in her ear,

"The things I would do to you my flower."

Hermione flushed, her heart rate increasing involuntarily, before gasping as his soft lips kissed her neck with a want she could clearly feel in the front of his trousers.

"And exactly what the fuck is going on here?"

Draco's voice was unmistakable.

_Fuck. _

* * *

**NEXT TIME ON LONDON LOVES**

Sex, drugs and wandering hands; inside Hollywood's latest blowout. This reporter has it all. Stay tuned.

XOXO

RITA SKEETER


End file.
